


It's no use crying over...

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Karkat is thirsty, and Equius is <em>thirsty</em>. (Rated for language)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's no use crying over...

Sometimes you just wonder how Equius breaks everything he touches.

You happen to be in the room with him late one night/early one morning, looking for something to drink when you hear a crunch and then a splash. You ignore it until something cold seeps into one of your socks. (Fuck shoes. Besides, you’re just going to try to go back to sleep after your drink.) The feeling startles you, and you lift your foot and look back at Equius.

Somehow he managed to spill milk all over himself. He’s absolutely dripping, and you can see he’s beginning to sweat on top of it. The rest is all over the floor.

You’re careful to put your foot back down on dry ground. You might be pissed, except it was just an accident. You know damn well that Equius doesn’t know his strength. It scares you a bit, sure. But it doesn’t mean he’s an asshole that deserves to be yelled at.

Still, you’re annoyed, so you just swear under your breath and turn back to the drinks. Only a few seconds later you hear him say “Sorry, Karkat.”

You just sigh. “Whatever, just clean it,” you mutter back at him, your attention mostly on beverages. All you see is Strider’s fucking apple juice and more goddamn milk, but you keep looking anyway. Or maybe you should just drink the apple juice. All of it. Fuck Dave.

“Say that again.”

Confused, you turn back to Equius again. He’s looking at you expectantly. You keep staring at him until he says again, “Order me again.”

Well, it seems kind of contradictory to command someone to order you, but whatever. You decide to humor him. “Clean up the mess you made,” you repeat, making sure your voice is louder and firmer.

He immediately grabs a towel and kneels, wiping up the milk and carefully piling up the pieces of his glass. You realize oh fucking shit, there’s glass all over the floor too. Then you remember that it didn’t sound like he’d just dropped it. It was more like he’d squeezed it so hard that it broke.

Suddenly you’re concerned. You don’t know if he can feel it or if he even cares, but the idea of glass shards stuck in his hands worries you.

Forgetting completely about your drink, you carefully step around the spilled milk and pieces of glass on the floor to kneel next to him. “Give me your hand,” you say, softly but still as firmly as you ordered him before.

He complies and what you see is just as you feared. Okay, it’s not as bad as you feared, but there are still little cuts and little pieces of glass still stuck in his skin. You notice little drops of blue blood rising, and you wonder how he can just ignore it so easily.

You begin picking the glass out of his cuts, and you wish you knew a little more about taking care of wounds. He doesn’t flinch or complain, but he does begin to sweat. How does he sweat so much? He’s literally dripping by the time you’re done. You look back up at him, and he’s watching you intently. You think he looks surprised. You don’t really blame him. You’re nursing his wounds, for fucks’ sake. Most of the time you just kind of scream at everyone.

Remembering what you’re doing, you tell Equius to sit still as you stand. He obediently doesn’t move a muscle as you pick up his used towel. It’s absolutely dripping and totally useless. You drop it in the sink for the time being, and grab three more hand towels.

One is for his hand. You don’t think he needs bandages, but you don’t think you should just let him bleed either. You lay this first towel over his palm and curl his fingers around it. “Hold this until the bleeding stops,” you instruct. He nods.

The second towel is for the rest of the milk on the floor. There’s not much more, thankfully. It only takes you a few moments to take care of the worst of it.

You turn back to Equius with the third towel in your hand, and you hesitate. You don’t know if he’ll allow this or not. You decide to test it anyway as his sweating only gets more intense.

Carefully, you begin to wipe his arms dry. Rather than tensing up as you expect him to, he relaxes. You take this as permission to continue. You can feel his muscles even underneath the towel. Fucking hell, no wonder he’s showing them off all the time.

You hesitate again and look up at his face again when you finish his arms. He’s still watching you. This time you hold his gaze as you start to dry off his face with a clean corner of the towel you’ve been using. He doesn’t stop sweating, but at least he’s not literally dripping anymore. You pause with a hand on his neck.

“Thank you, Karkat,” he says, and he doesn’t sound as tense as before. You nod, and neither of you move for a moment, before you continue your ministrations. “I’m serious Karkat, thank you. I can’t tell you enough.”

A wicked idea crosses your mind, and as soon as it’s there you can’t get it out. You pause again, and wonder if you should. Oh, fuck it. He’s been getting off on all this, hasn’t he? You suddenly realize that’s the best explanation for all the sweating.

You lean closer to him, almost imperceptibly, keeping your hand on his shoulder. “Then show me.”

He catches your drift instantly, and catches your lips in a kiss. You’re surprised he actually did it with so little preamble. Not that you’re complaining.

His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. He’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be. At first he’s the one leading you. You respond predictably, and you let him run his fingers in your hair. But you can’t really help yourself. Eventually you push back against him, not hard enough to push him on his back but enough that he knows you’re assuming control.

You’re the one that coaxes his mouth open and teases his tongue with yours. Without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his legs so you can be closer. A hand on your back pushes you into his chest and you know Equius enjoys the proximity as much as you do.

At some point your fingers move from the towel to the locks of hair beginning at the base of his neck. You straighten up slightly so that you’re above him, and use your grip to tilt his head back. You could swear he lets out a little groan when you pull his hair like that.

You realize you’ve subconsciously started making a list of his turn-ons. So far it’s dominance and hair pulling. You wonder how many more you can find.

Not now though. Eventually you have to stop kissing him, before it escalates any further. Maybe you’ll do this again some other time, when you’re not as tired. You rest your forehead against his as your lips break apart. You can feel him starting to sweat again. It’s sort of gross, but mostly you don’t care.

It hits you that you just made out with Equius, the least likely person to fill any of your quadrants, but you don’t really care about that either. It’s a nice surprise, at least.

“Stay with me?” You mean for it to be an order, like before, but it comes out as a question.  You find yourself a little nervous about the answer. You realize your fingers are still in his hair, and you’re combing your fingers through it instead of indulging in your usual nervous habits.

You aren’t kept waiting for long though. “Yes. Of course.” He turns so he’s sitting against the wall, and pulls you so you’re sitting in his lap instead of straddling it. Your hands wrap around his waist and your head drops against his shoulder, and you realize he’s still holding the towel in his bloody hand as he holds you.

The mess on the floor is forgotten as you fall asleep together.


End file.
